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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27116452">Friend Like You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0talcha0s/pseuds/t0talcha0s'>t0talcha0s</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A buncha vignettes about hair, Canon Compliant, Good Clean Boy Content, In the 1999 Mito gives Killua a hair cut and it is so important to me, Kurapika and Leorio are in it for all of a sentence, whale island</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:09:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,596</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27116452</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0talcha0s/pseuds/t0talcha0s</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Killua was a bit particular about his hairstyle. He was diligent with its upkeep: he liked it short and purposefully rumpled and clean. Then came the intrusion of Gon into his life and it changed his heart and his goals and the way he took care of himself, even the way he took care of his hair.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gon Freecs &amp; Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Friend Like You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverwherever/gifts">neverwherever</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For my dear Julia. I slapped out the first draft for this in June with you beside me on the couch and finish it now in October with you beside me on the couch. Love 'ya</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One of the first things Mito said to Killua and Gon, when they arrived at her home on Whale Island was </p>
<p>“Go take a bath, you stink from traveling.” Killua, who hadn’t found the time to bathe in the long time between final fights at Heaven’s Arena and travelling across an ocean, was more than grateful for the invitation. Gon wavered slightly, said he’d prefer to take Killua around the island right now, or at least down by the docks to see if any of his favorite sailors were in town that he could introduce Killua to. Mito was firm though, insistent, and the two boys slunk into the bathroom. The tub was big and dressed in the light from the window. There was a pile of clean, fluffy towels settled onto the counter. The whole room smelled like a lightly floral soap. </p>
<p>Gon filled the bath as Killua stepped out of his shorts, laying them atop his already piled shirts. Gon had already made quick work of his shirt and was leaning over the tub, testing the heat of the water. Killua noticed how tan he was, worlds tanner then Killua, and how the warm summer light of Whale Island seemed to fill every corner of the room and make his skin glow a gentle bronze. He was otherworldly in a way, walked out of Heaven’s Arena unscarred and smiling, the curve of his back held a weightless strength. Killua, not caring to question, hopped into the warmth of the tub. </p>
<p>Gon’s shampoo was some ginger-honey scent and the smell clung to the air and filled the bathroom with a cloying comfort. Serenity that gripped at the inside of Killua’s nostrils and held him hostage in the peace. He took the shampoo and massaged it into his scalp, maybe if he pressed it and scratched it in hard enough the feeling would stay. Gon laughs from his place in the tub. </p>
<p>“You look goofy,” he said. “With bubbles all over you. Like a magical beast.” </p>
<p>“Shut up,” Killua said and dunked his head under the water, washing the bubbles into the bath. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>The next morning, Killua, glancing outside through the semi-open door, was greeted with a familiar, affecting smile. </p>
<p>“Hey Killua!” Gon said, always managing to carry the same excitement in his tone, like he still hadn’t gotten over the joyous shock of Killua’s presence. </p>
<p>“Keep your head still Gon” Mito chimed behind him. Gon was sitting in one of the dining room chairs, a white sheet wrapped around him with fuzzy specks of black hair resting where it gathered in his lap. Mito was armed with a pair of scissors and a comb, snipping methodically at the back of Gon’s head. Killua, still daily shocked by household familiarity, got his point across with </p>
<p>“Hey Gon” followed by a broad silence. Mito picks up the slack as she examines him</p>
<p>“Your hair’s getting long too Killua, you should let me cut it for you.” Killua, more curious then self conscious, lifts a hand to his bangs and pulls them down in front of his eyes. Quite long it would seem, jutting up in little waves like a shadow of his grandfather’s. He shrugs</p>
<p>“Okay” He sat while Mito finished up Gon’s hair, short in the back and wild up top. Mito pulled the comb through it and it scattered out in shorter, fluffier bursts. It got this way when it was wet too, but it looked far more unruly here. Killua commented on how stupid he looked and Gon shot his gaze towards him, the flecks of gold in his amber eyes accented by the afternoon sun. </p>
<p>“Keep your head still!” Mito reiterated, giving Gon’s head a pat as he straightened his spine and titled his head back for her. Killua looked out past them, out at the forest and the hills which rolled gently into the titular shape of Whale Island. Little brown birds hopped and skittered among the tops of the trees, tweeting little songs as they bounced from branch to branch. Killua exhaled, a long one, something happy that brought a stale worry up out of his stomach that was bleached clean in the fresh air. “Done,’ Mito said proudly, scruffing her hand through the back of Gon’s hair, setting it upright into his usual spikes. Gon lifted himself out of his chair and hit the ground with an excited kick, brushing the shorn hair off of his shirt and shorts. </p>
<p>“How’s it look Killua?” The same as when I first met you, he thought </p>
<p>“It’s shorter” he said. </p>
<p>“Well yeah!” Gon laughed as Mito brushed off the chair and waved a beckoning wrist</p>
<p>“Your turn Killua, we only have so much more daylight” Killua takes his place on the chair, letting Mito tie a sheet around his neck and gently pull her hand through those wispy hairs at the base of his skull, pulling his hair out for assessment. The gesture is sweet and sends a comfortable trickle down Killua’s spine. Gon sits down lotus style on the grass, brushing hair out from under his collar. Mito’s actions are soft and barely tickle the back of Killua’s scalp as she combs through his hair, tufts of white falling onto his shoulders like down feathers in the wake of her scissors. It’s nice. He watches Gon pick at the hem of his shirt or the plants he sits in, though he does avert his gaze when Gon’s eyes flash to him, a bright smile on his face that picks the corners of his lips up and makes something twang in Killua’s stomach. He breathes deep and it smells like grass and something spicy Gon’s Great-Grandmother is cooking inside and citrus and like tanned skin after a swim. It’s comfortable, the only way Killua can think to describe it, a true comfort. The quiet whisper of Mito’s scissors clips its way around Killua’s senses: behind his ears and down by his neck and up up his head until Mito has to ask “would you mind tilting your head back a little for me Killua?” </p>
<p>He does, it’s almost automatic, all his snark and resistance cut right out of him. Behind his closed eyelids he hears Gon get up from his spot in the grass and head into the house. Mito, presumably feeling the need to fill the silence now that the two strangers were left without the supervision of their spirited connector, commented</p>
<p>‘Your hair is so soft” as she twines her fingers into his bangs, pulling them up to be trimmed. “Not like Gon’s, his is so wiry. It used to be such a pain to wash.” She lets out a pleasant huff at the memory. “We’re all done.” She affectionately ruffled her hand through the top of it, mimicking that intentional rumple Killua possessed and the action brought a cold pallor to his cheeks. He knew the feeling of it, he knew it well, it was the same sort of familiar touch that Illumi would apply, in threatening measures, to keep him close. </p>
<p><em> Kil </em> he’d say, running a hand through the white strands of a young Killua’s hair, rubbing out a bit of blood that was neither of theirs from his forehead. <em> Don’t get yourself so messy next time. </em></p>
<p>He wasn’t in that moment long though, the hard-worked fingers of Mito went to brush his hair off his shoulders and the pressure in the memory of his brother went right along with it. She swept the sheet of his shoulder and, getting his own fingers in his hair examining the new length, Killua muttered a genuine</p>
<p>“Thank you” </p>
<p>“Absolutely Killua, now I think Abe’s hotpot is finished.” </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>In Yorknew Killua noticed Kurapika’s hair had gotten long. Well, Leorio noticed. When they were all together again Leorio said </p>
<p>“Your hair’s gotten long” and there was something about the way he said it that made Killua think there was much much more he wanted to say. Kurapika didn’t acknowledge it but beneath the long blonde strands there was a new red glint hanging from his ear. His hair <em>was</em> longer, almost to his throat. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>The first thing Killua did when he found his way out of Greed Island for his hunter exam was shower. He was disgusting, covered in dirt and grime and sweat and magic dust from the game and the training and when Gon would make a snarky comment and Killua would shove him and it would end in a wrestling match. There was a thick layer of gross that had built up during his months in greed island and he stood beneath the warm spray of the hotel shower and watched all of nasty that’d stained his skin a rock-tan brown swirl down into the drain in turbid little streams. He luxuriated in the small package of soap, working it into his sore, muscled skin until it was shining and the soap was no more than a thin puck in his palm. He doused his head in shampoo and conditioner, working it into lathers that took a good five-plus rinses to run clear. When he got out he could swear he was shining and he smelled of eucalyptus and sandalwood and he’d almost never felt better. </p>
<p>When he got to the Kiriko though, to the acquaintances of Gon who’d helped him on his way to the hunter exam when he passed, they appraised him with their thin eyes and long snouts. </p>
<p>“I’m Gon’s friend.” He explained, shifting under their gaze. </p>
<p>“We can tell,” they said “you even smell like him.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really don't have an explanation for this one. Comment if you dug it </p>
<p>Catch me tweeting @poetforprofit</p></blockquote></div></div>
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